


Bound Like Brothers

by Primarybufferpanel (ArwenLune)



Series: The Brothers Opress [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Podfic Welcome, Rescue, Rescue from Slavery, Soft Wars, Star Wars AU - Soft Wars, Zabrak Bro Feels, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:14:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25772656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArwenLune/pseuds/Primarybufferpanel
Summary: If Djai and Ohnai had been asked to think of the least likely people to rescue them from slavery, this option would probably not even have come to mind.
Series: The Brothers Opress [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1936447
Comments: 66
Kudos: 249
Collections: Open Source Soft Wars





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Project0506](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Project0506/gifts).



> This is set in the wider [Soft Wars AU](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1683775), where everything turns out a lot nicer than in canon. Including for the brothers Opress. 
> 
> With fervent thanks to [RogueLadyVader](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaylaYuy/pseuds/RogueLadyVader) who alpha'd, beta'd and ceta'd this.

The ship was under attack.

Djai pressed his shoulder against Ohnai, trying to keep his breathing steady. You'd think that after five months of slavery following a short, brutal lifetime intended solely for war, he'd be used to this. Turns out it could always get worse. Optimism was a challenge to whatever forces directed his and his brother's fate.

There'd been five of them, waking up in a dingy room somewhere on Felucia. All of Thesh squad. Heavily injured in the battle and assumed dead, then picked up by enterprising slavers. Yco hadn't made it out of that room, but the rest of them had been patched up with crude surgery and bacta injections.

Five months of backbreaking work later, there were only Djai and Ohnai left, sold to somebody on another world. Djai had heard rumours that it was a mining colony. His left knee wasn't in great state and the blaster scars on his back had never healed right and pulled, but he was in reasonable state. Ohnai's shoulder however was still only half what it had been, and he'd been sick lately, coughing more than a vod should and struggling to catch his breath afterward. Sometimes his lips were greyish.

Djai dreaded the mines, which surely wouldn't help his brother breathe. He hoped that they could at least stay together so that he could shoulder some of his brother's work and hide his lower productivity.

As long as they were together they were vode. Djai wasn't sure what he might be, what he might _do,_ if he was the only one left.

While that thought was deeply depressing, it was preferable over their transport ship being blown up.

The two brothers pressed together in their crowded holding cell and braced against the impact of heavy gunnery on the old transport's limited shielding. The other slaves in the hold were doing much the same, too numb to panic.

Of course, Djai reflected a short time later, when they felt the shudder and clank of another ship docking with the slave transport, being blown up and dying in space might be preferable over being boarded by pirates. Especially since that likely meant getting sold to whatever even less reputable clientele they might have. Kriff, things weren't exactly looking up.

Ohnai squeezed his arm when there was shouting in the next compartment, a scream, blaster fire, and then—

That telltale low thrum that Djai would recognise anywhere.

A sound that had once meant—not _safety_. But 'The General is here'. The assurance of _mattering_ , of being seen. Of being protected, if the General could, and of being remembered if they died protecting the General.

The boarders had a lightsaber.

Which instantly turned Djai's thoughts from pirates and who they might sell slaves to, to _Jedi_. Was this a rescue, at long last? It had seemed so impossible, given that nobody would have known they were alive to be found. It had taken months to truly put to rest the hope that somebody might be looking for them. And a rescue during transport, one small ship out of millions traversing the galaxy, seemed even less likely.

As he listened to the hum of the weapon and the shouting of the slavers, that hope came flaring up bright and painful.

Until the wielder stabbed the lightsaber right through the lock of the door that separated the loading bay from the holding cell bay, and the tip that melted through the durasteel doors was searing red.

Ohnai's breath caught, and they both understood at the same time that this would not be a rescue. Not from somebody wielding a Sith blade. Only a Jedi could stand against a Sith; the rest of them didn't have a hope in hell, _that_ they had all learned from Darth Maul, from Dooku, from Ventress.

The doors were kicked open and—

Darth Maul. Djai swallowed a sound of distress and turned his face away, not wanting to draw any attention to himself or his brother. All the slaves had been shorn and shaved before transport; there was no hiding that they were clones. Darth Maul's grudge against the Jedi and anybody associated with them was well known.

The two of them listened as the Sith coldly ran through the two slavers that had been hiding in this compartment, and then there were more footsteps in the deathly quiet slave hold. The lightsaber turned off to a deafening silence, two dozen slaves holding their breath.

"We've got a brother here, Maul," a low voice rumbled, and Djai glanced up to see another Zabrak, a giant of a man, yellow where Darth Maul was red. He too had a lightsaber clipped to his belt. The newcomer stood by the cell opposite Djai, where an older Zabrak with brown skin and black markings had stood up; the slave's horns had been chipped down to stumps.

"I am Savage Opress," the giant introduced himself. "My brothers and I have a place where Nightbrothers can be free."

The Zabrak slave's answer was hoarse and too low to make out.

"And the rest of you," Darth Maul intoned, not loud but somehow carrying easily across the bay, "Will be free also. We know places where they'll pay you fairly for work so you can settle or earn passage to wherever you might want to go. We know some reliable trader ships that can bring you there for a fair price or in exchange for work."

Darth _Karking_ Maul.

Said _that_.

Djai would have hissed in disbelief if he hadn't still been trying not to draw attention to himself. He didn't know much about the Sith, but it seemed downright implausible that whenever Darth Maul wasn't trying to kill General Kenobi, he occupied himself with freeing slaves.

And not just freeing them, to drop into some space station where they were at risk of every unscrupulous soul with a ship and a likely story. It sounded like they were actually putting some thought into helping them along.

If it was actually true. It just didn't seem—real.

A third Zabrak entered the hold, this one slighter and younger than the others, skin a dusty orange with brown markings. He carried a blaster. Djai couldn't help but think that he seemed unlikely company to the two warriors. 'My brothers and I' the giant had said though. Djai had heard something about how Darth Maul was a Nightbrother, which were the males from some Dathomir tribe. Were these two his literal brothers? Strange as that might seem, he could see it. The patterns of their markings and horns were almost identical.

The youngest Zabrak gave Darth Maul an upnod that seemed to say 'we've got this,' and the Sith nodded back and then went toward the cockpit of the ship, Force-dragging the bodies of the slaver crew with him. Some of the tension in the bay left with him. Ohnai took a shuddering breath, and Djai shifted to wrap his arm around him, letting his vod hide his face against Djai's shoulder.

The smaller Zabrak went to the cell occupied by seven Twi'lek women. They were sitting together in the back of their cell, watching him warily. He pulled some kind of scanner from his belt.

"I am Feral Opress," he said, low-pitched and lighter than either of his brothers. "May I scan your chips, so we'll know what we need to disable them?"

The bravest of the women spoke to the others in quiet Ryl and pushed to her feet.

"Yes. Do you wish that we should come to the bars?"

Feral clearly hesitated a moment, and Djai wondered if he didn't like the idea of scanning them through the bars in the exact same way slavers were wont to do.

"One moment. Perhaps my brother has found keys."

He jogged out after Darth Maul and returned a moment later, not with keys but with one half of the Sith's lightsaber in his hand.

"No keys," he said to the giant as he passed. "We're melting it to slag."

"Mm. I do like breaking cell doors," was the response.

Feral told the women to stay back and lit the saber directly through the lock of their cell door. Djai and Ohnai both flinched at the sound of it, at the eerie red glow, but a moment later the lock was dripping onto the deck and the saber was already switched off and on Feral's belt. He spoke with the women in a low voice as he entered their cell with his handheld scanner. Meanwhile the giant—Savage—had done much the same with the cell holding the older nightbrother.

It took Djai a while to catch on that they were sorting people by what type of slave marking they had. Collar, scar, or chip. Then again by what type of chip or collar. Explosive, shock, tracking or a combination. Djai knew he and Ohnai had been chipped; a collar being considered a danger in the mining operations. But both had been fitted with shock collars for transport.

"We're going to deaden the collar with an EMP blast and cut it off, but I still want to scan you," Savage said to a young man with an explosive collar, who was backing away from him. "Just in case there's a chip you don't know about."

His voice was a low rumble, and to Djai's utter shock, he sounded _kind_. Patient. Like he understood what it was like to have no options, which was hard to imagine for a warrior of his stature, and a Force user no less.

The thought felt hysterical, but—

Perhaps this really was a rescue. Perhaps Djai and Ohnai could get somewhere they could contact the fleet. How did you even do that if you had no GAR comms unit? They'd have to find a way. Return to the 212th. What else could they do?

It was clear the Zabraks had done this before; there was a kind of routine to it.

"We've got an R4 droid that can remove chips, we just need to scan you to find out how to disable it first," Savage explained patiently to a slave who was eyeing him warily.

Djai and Ohnai were in the last cell they opened. It was Feral standing in the doorway.

"Oh, hey. Got some vode over here," he remarked to his brother, and Djai blinked up at him at that word. He'd expected to hear 'clones.' Why would an outsider use the word clones used for themselves?

"I think one of the Dalu trader ships is headed in that direction soon," Savage answered distractedly. "The _La'gethro_? Heard they were looking to set up trade in that sector."

Djai was a little too busy getting to his feet, supporting Ohnai without being obvious about it, to think to question _which_ sector. He pushed it away to think about later.

"Transport collar and chip?" Feral asked Djai, voice neutral.

"Yeah." It came out raw.

The Zabrak reached out to scan Djai, and he tried not to edge away.

"Okay. We need to find the collar controls, but that should be easy enough to get off of you," Feral said, a little distracted by his scanner readout. "Hey, you've got a standard slave chip in your neck, we can neutralise that easily enough and then have the droid take it out later. But you've got one in your head too. Know what that's about?"

"Uh. What?" Djai blinked at him, overwhelmed. Nobody but his vod had talked to him in months, at least not beyond shouting orders; he found he wasn't used to it anymore. This was a lot at once.

Feral looked at Ohnai, waiting for his nod before he moved in to scan him too.

"Didn't know it was there? You've got it too," Feral said to Ohnai. He studied his scanner readouts and then then looked closely at the area over their right ears. "And neither of you have any surgery scars."

Savage came in to look at the scanner; he shrugged after looking at both vode. "Maul might know."'

Djai tried hard to suppress his flinch at the mention of the Sith. These two seemed to mean well, but Djai was never going to forget who their brother was. Maybe he failed to hide his reaction, or maybe they could feel him recoil mentally.

"We'll see about that later," Feral decided, more considerate than Djai knew what to do with. He gestured to the group forming by the doors to the hallway. "You guys join the group for ownership transfer."

The brothers started the next stage with those who had collars but no chips, asking the slaves to line up. Feral had a small EMP zapper, Savage a pair of boltcutters. One by one the collars were zapped, cut off, and dumped into a containment barrel. Smooth and obviously experienced with this, within minutes they closed the barrel and Savage took it forward. A moment later they heard an airlock cycle.

Feral did another full body scan on everyone after their collars were off, 'just to be sure'.

Djai realised with slow horror how he might have learned that was necessary, that somebody might have had an implant they hadn't known about, and thought themselves to be free right until it activated.

No wonder the two brothers were being so thorough about this.

The simple type of tracking chips were next, disabled by some kind of handheld device. Djai couldn't see, but heard Feral explaining that the site of the chip would be sore for a couple of hours. Then he gave the just-treated people his handheld scanner for a full body check and to let them verify for themselves that the chip was dead.

It was all very—

Kind.

"Is this really happening or am I feverish?" Ohnai muttered close to Djai's ear.

"If you're hallucinating, so am I," Djai breathed. He was fighting down a treacherous kind of hope.

"But that was Maul. You know," his brother gestured helplessly, " _Darth Maul_."

"Yeah."

They'd only encountered the Sith once, early on in the war. He'd lured General Kenobi to an isolated gully on a battlefield while the 212th was engaging a seemingly endless slew of clankers. It had taken far too long before they could get to the General; Djai respected the Jedi for their prowess, but after a 17 hour pitched battle, a duel with a Sith had clearly been taxing. With the 212th taking potshots the Sith had to divide his attention to deflect, Darth Maul had created a rock slide as distraction and unassed the area.

Djai remembered how shaken the General had seemed that night. Whispers were that Darth Maul had been believed to be long dead, and suddenly seeing him back and intent on revenge had hit hard.

That hadn't been long after Geonosis. Djai didn't know if Darth Maul had been sighted since.

Except. Here he was.

Savage had disappeared toward the cockpit, leaving the doors open. Djai stole a glance in that direction and saw Darth Maul behind a console, nodding up at his brother.

"All right," Savage returned to address the little group Djai and Ohnai were in. "You'll line up to go to the cockpit. There's a hand scanner there—scan yourself, and my brother will check your chip details and then transfer your ownership to yourself in the shipboard system. You'll be able to see it on screen. When it's done, scan yourself again just to verify it went through."

Djai couldn't picture Darth Maul performing such a menial administrative task. It was all very strange and none of this remotely tracked with what little they knew of the Sith. Maybe they could just… watch first. See how it happened with the others. He and Ohnai positioned themselves at the end of the line, not in a hurry to be in a room with the Sith. Let the others go first.

The old Nightbrother slave—called Pierce, apparently— went first. He had a bad limp, but something about his posture had changed. Proud, Djai thought. He was proud that his people were doing this. He heard the man speak to Maul for a few minutes; he couldn't quite hear, but it sounded like a summary of his life story, and perhaps Maul telling him something about the place he had established for the Nightbrothers. When Pierce came back to the bay, he was walking taller.

Eventually there was nobody else left. Djai took a moment to get his breath back under control. Sniper breathing. Eightcount in, hold, eightcount out. He just had to focus on that.

If Darth Maul wanted them dead, they would be dead right now. What would have stopped him? They'd already have been run through and flushed out the airlock with the slaver crew.

It made absolutely no sense to waste all this effort on slaves they intended to kill.

The thought wasn't as comforting as Djai had hoped. It seemed a very long hallway up to the cockpit.

The Sith was at one of the consoles, looking startlingly… ordinary. Djai had only ever seen him once from a distance, when he was fighting the General. He'd been terrifying, larger than life. A force of nature like the most erratic of Kaminoan storms, the ones that would batter Tipoca City with lightning strikes, water cyclones, hail the size of grenades, and wind gusts hard enough to sweep a grown man into the sea. They'd all feared for the General's life.

Now, for all the stark red and black of his face and hands, the sharp horns, he was a normal sized person. He'd taken off his outer robes and thrown them over the back of his chair. He rolled his neck as if he was trying to get it to crack.

The Sith stayed in his chair while Djai and Ohnai came up behind him—not that that was any protection if he decided he wanted to hurt the two of them. He turned around and focused on the brothers, and kriff, those yellow-gold eyes made Djai's stomach clench with apprehension. He wanted a weapon in his hands. He wanted to push Ohnai behind him. He knew he would have been no match for the Sith before Felucia, before blaster injury and months of slave labour had whittled him down, and he sure as hell wasn't a match now.

Djai could see the convenient open space by the chair where the others had stood, where they could see the console screen easily. Even if he had planned to come that close, his legs weren't willing to go any further, and he halted awkwardly. There was a moment of silence, and then the Sith seemed to realise they weren't going to come closer.

"Can you see the screen from there?"

Darth Maul's voice was quiet, low and with a core-world accent that felt entirely at odds with his face.

Djai couldn't see the screen very well, but made an affirmative noise anyway.

"Catch," the Sith said, and Djai flinched as an item flew at him. He got his arm up in time to deflect it, but then it slowed in its trajectory—what an unexpected use of the Force, he thought vaguely— and he saw that it was a hand scanner. His catch was fumbling even so, but he got it, heart pounding.

"Scan yourself," the Sith ordered.

When Djai did, information flashed up on the screen.

"CT-3721," he read out. "Yes?"

"Yeah." His voice sounded like he'd been garling sand.

Before they'd been put on this transport, the control transfer from the Felucia seller to the transport ship had happened with a scanner and a datapad, confirmed with a thumb print by the seller and the buyer; Djai hadn't been involved other than being scanned through the bars of the cell. He warily shifted just close enough to the console that he could read the screen. It was a kind of a form. The Sith filled out Djai's designation in several places, the system asking him to confirm the change every time, which he did by pressing something to a print scanner. Djai chose not to examine it too closely, but suspected it was the severed thumb of the head slaver.

Gruesome, but he couldn't fault the Sith for that one.

The screen flashed a BUYER THUMB PRINT REQUIRED notice. The Sith gestured and the print scanner flew to a desk near Djai. Djai wiped his thumb on the coarse fabric of his trousers and nervously pressed his thumb to the pad.

There was a flashing NEW OWNERSHIP NAME MATCHING PROPERTY NAME warning, followed by OWNERSHIP WILL BE TRANSFERRED TO CT-3721, ARE YOU SURE, and Maul let out a low, impatient growl as he gestured the print scanner back to himself, hit 'confirm,' and pressed the thumb to the pad yet again.

TRANSFER OF OWNERSHIP COMPLETE popped up on the console screen, and Djai blinked at it numbly.

"Scan yourself again," the Sith prompted, not as impatient as Djai might have expected, but the order didn't seem to want to translate into action for Djai.

Ohnai pulled the scanner from his shaking hands and scanned Djai's neck.

"Vod." Ohnai sounded quietly disbelieving. He showed the scanner readout to Djai.

PROPERTY: CT-3721   
CATEGORY: LABOUR SLAVE   
OWNER: CT-3721

Nothing could have prepared him for how seeing that on a screen would land. Djai felt his knees try to turn liquid, and he grabbed for Ohnai's good shoulder.

The Sith had pulled up something else on the screen and after a few more actions Djai was too overwhelmed to follow, there was a beep and a buzz from his transport collar. He flinched. They'd been shocked once when it was put on, just to put the fear of it into them.

"You can take that off now, I've disabled it," Darth Maul said. "There's an incinerator bin next to you."

Ohnai reached out and cautiously pulled at the two halves of the collar sitting around Djai's neck, and they came apart easily.

His brother lightly knocked foreheads with him and then scanned himself, eager to be on the other end of the process.

"CT-2409. Correct?"

"Yes."

A scant few minutes later Ohnai saw a similar confirmation on the scanner readout. He showed it to Djai with a little disbelieving laugh. Then when the collar buzzed, he ripped it off and let it thunk into the incinerator bin.

"We'll have the droid take out the chips before we send you to Concord Dawn," Darth Maul was saying. "But this solves your immediate problem."

"Wait, Concord Dawn? Why…"

The Sith turned his chair to look at them.

"You don't know," he stated, and there was something to his expression, but Djai couldn't begin to read what it was through the markings. "Get Feral to fill you in."

His comms unit went off, and the Sith turned to it with something that Djai thought might be relief. As if the encounter was as uncomfortable for him as it was for the vode.

_Maul? Dropping out of hyperspace in 30 minutes. Is that rustbucket okay to do re-entry and landing on its own or should I stay coupled with it?_

"Yes. It'll fly fine, Grim. I'll comm ahead so they're ready for us."

_I'll let you know when I'm ready to decouple._

Djai had no idea what to think, but they were clearly dismissed, and eager to get back to the bay and away from the Sith.

Then again, Savage was one too. Feral was less obvious, but he was a Force user. Or did you not need to have the Force to use a lightsaber? Djai wasn't actually sure. And weren't there only ever two Sith? But that wasn't right, there were Dooku and Ventress...

He and Ohnai found a spot out of the way to sit down, both still reeling with the change, with the knowledge that they were free. No mining colony. They could make their way back to the fleet—was the GAR currently engaged in the Mandalore system, for the Nightbrothers to be so certain that's where they needed to go?

Djai supposed it didn't much matter which battle their fellow troopers were currently engaged in. He just wanted to be among his vode again. After all that time, there was finally a glimmer of hope.


	2. Chapter 2

They arrived on Ordul about an hour later, one of those war-torn places that had lost so many people that they were happy to take in former slaves to repopulate their communities. They'd even received enough humanitarian help from the Republic to get people off on a decent start, and they were clearly used to the Opress brothers bringing them people. There was a kind of receiving line when the ship's ramp opened; go here for clothes, there for food and drink, there for medical care

An hour later they were walking into the sparse clinic where a droid was steadily pulling chips out of newly freed slaves.

"Feral Opress said there's another chip in our heads," Ohnai turned to the older Chalactan woman running the clinic. "I don't know what it is, but I want it out."

"Okay, let me get the imager, so we'll know what we're dealing with," she nodded agreeably, and the brothers gave each other a stunned look. They weren't used to having any kind of say over their own body. Had more than half expected a fight over this like they would have had on Kamino.

It was almost anticlimactic how quickly and easily the extractions were done.

They were given the chance to bathe; water was abundant on this planet, and the little waterfall the locals had screened off for this purpose felt like ice cold bliss, washing away months of grime and despair.

That evening the townhouse hosted a meal—a simple stew, but flavourful, with fresh coarse-milled bread and a piece of fruit for dessert.

Then a conversation with a local counsellor and Feral, who together talked Djai and Ohnai through the options. They could stay on Ordul, where they could join the village collective; pick any of a number of small farms to recover, clean up, and make their own. A hard existence, the counsellor admitted, but everything they built would be theirs, and they'd be part of a community that took care of its own.

The second option was Edorfe, where there was a similar community but some ten years further along; there would be work there, if not such immediate opportunities to own land and settle down. But most importantly there was a small spaceport with frequent trader traffic. If their plan was to go elsewhere, that would be their best bet.

Djai met Ohnai's eyes and felt his heart tug at the idea of a small farm, something they might rescue from neglect and make their own. It was a strange thought that for the first time in their lives they truly _were_ their own men, now. They didn't owe anybody service.

If they went back to the fleet, they would more likely than not be reassigned and thrown back into battle. It was what they'd been made for. Once upon a time Djai would have said they had sworn a vow and going off to be a farmer was desertion, but—

—but the GAR had left them behind.

Right now the GAR didn't know of their continued existence. They had the opportunity of a life of peace. An existence truly of their own making. It would even be possible that they might meet partners, have children, which had been the kind of dream Djai had scarcely allowed himself to have.

Djai was probably healthy enough to be reassigned, but was Ohnai? What if they were separated? He couldn't bear the thought of it. To have fought so hard and so long to survive and stay together, only to be separated in what ought to have been safety.

Was that—did that justify not going back? Had they suffered enough to choose that option? Or did they owe it to their brothers to return and rejoin the fight, throwing their already battered bodies back into battle no matter what? And if they didn't, would they be able to sleep at night with that decision, with knowing their brothers were still dying out there?

He wanted that little farm more than anything, but just the thought of it felt selfish.

"Before you decide I should tell you about the third option," Feral said with a slight smile. "I don't know how much you know about the end of the war, so I'll…" he made a vague gesture. "Try to catch you up, okay?"

Djai sat very still for a long moment, trying to rerun that sentence a couple of times, waiting for it to make sense. It still didn't, so he tried a soft "The. Um. The what?"

The counsellor rose to his feet.

"I see this might take some time. Come and find me when you've decided what you want to do, alright?"

Feral nodded and folded his legs under himself in his chair. Djai watched him warily. You couldn't just mention 'the end of the war' like it had happened and then let that sit.

"When did you get captured?" Feral finally asked.

Were they really captured? Rescued was technically true, but rescue implied some selfless component, not selling off your rescuees for profit. 'Enslaved' felt… well—it was true for what happened later, but not for how it had started. More like… picked up from the battlefield and patched up and repurposed like droids.

Djai was still debating what would be the word for it, when Ohnai answered for the both of them.

"Battle of Felucia. One of them. Nine or ten standard months ago, it's.. Blurry." They didn't really how long they'd been in that crappy backroom until they'd been deemed fit enough for slavery.

"Right," Feral nodded slowly. "Four months ago something went down on Coruscant. The details in the news were thin, but the Jedi discovered Chancellor Palpatine was the Sith Lord controlling the Separatists. I'm not sure how they found out or how the clones were involved, but it must have been true, because by the time the news was on the holonet, all the Sep forces had deactivated."

Djai felt like that time he'd been too close to a concussion grenade when it went off. Everything had gone silent for what felt like endless moments, as if the battle had somehow been slowed down and switched to silent. Just the pounding of his own heart and a faint high tone.

Chancellor Palpatine.

The 'Sith Lord' part barely registered. That was a Jedi level concern, not something for troopers like them to worry about.

But.

Chancellor Palpatine had… had controlled the Seps.

Chancellor Palpatine could have..

…could have given the order to turn off the clankers

at _any_ time.

Chancellor Palpatine had thrown whole battalions of vode, good men who thought they were fighting for a reason, into meatgrinders of his own making.

Miserable gods, they'd thought it _meant_ something. That their lives were brutal and limited and short, but that with their existence and sacrifice, they were sparing others, were preventing suffering.

Instead it had all been one sick man playing a game of karking holochess against himself.

Ohnai made a soft, choked-off noise.

Maybe words existed for the discovery that everything you were made for, everything your brothers died for, had been for nothing. If they existed, Djai couldn't find them.

"Of course he was," he said faintly.

Feral seemed to understand, continuing in a careful tone.

"Somewhere in there, the clones negotiated their freedom; they've claimed Concord Dawn as their own."

Wow. That explained why Feral and Savage had assumed they'd want to go there. Djai couldn't wrap his head around it yet. Too many changes all at once. All things that had happened, apparently months ago, which they were getting dropped onto their heads in one go.

"Aren't… aren't _you_ Sith?" Ohnai said quietly, having picked up a point that Djai had somehow bypassed entirely.

The young Zabrak visibly startled.

"No!"

"But you use the Force. And you're all—" Ohnai gestured to his own face.

"Right, okay," Feral said, like he knew where to begin now. "The three of us are Nightbrothers. The tribe we're from is called the Nightsisters—it's a witch tribe on Dathomir. The women are Force sensitive and use the dark side of the force. Some of the men are too, and we're kept as slaves. All Nightbrothers have these markings," he indicated his own face, "they're revealed by the Witches after we're born."

Huh. Djai had always thought that they were tattoos.

"Sometimes we're sold or given away to allies. Maul was given to Sidious—Palpatine—when he was very young, and raised to serve him. So _he was_ a Sith, but that bond was broken ten years ago. The dark side is just a different way of accessing the Force, it doesn't determine what you use it for. It's not the same as being a Sith."

Djai had no idea what to do with the information that these fearsome Zabrak brothers had also been slaves. Or that Darth Maul had had as little choice in becoming what he was as Djai and his brothers had in becoming what they were. It was so much easier to just think of them as enemies.

"Now that we're free ourselves, we want to find every single Nightbrother." Feral made an all-encompassing gesture. "To make sure they can live safe and free too." His voice coloured with intent and passion.

Ohnai nodded in understanding, and Feral visibly reminded himself of why they were having this conversation.

"Regardless. I don't know what the situation is like on Concord Dawn, but it might be a lot like here, and your brothers are there. So if you want to go, we can arrange it."

"Can we… is there a way we can look on the holonet for a bit?" Djai said hesitantly. He wanted to believe Feral, who seemed genuine and kind and if this was some kind of trap, it was an infeasibly elaborate one. But the idea that the vode— _all_ the vode— had somehow managed to not only walk away from the war, but claimed a planet as their own in the process… How could that be true?

"It's true. Karking hell. It's true," Ohnai summarised some time later, the two of them sat in some tiny office in the patched up little town hall. They were both still staring at the screen.

"Vod'alor," Djai said softly. "We have a Vod'alor."

"And it's our Commander."

Despite everything, they had never really stopped feeling like they belonged with the 212th. They were Ghost Company. Their very own Commander Cody having played such an instrumental role in the freedom of all the vode made Djai swell with a pride he probably had no right to.

"A whole planet. How the kriffing hell did they pull that off?"

"I don't know. But we're going, right?"

"Of course we are."

Maybe that little farm wasn't entirely out of the question, either.

The _Nightwish_ —the Courier the Opress brothers flew with—departed for the colony on Edorfe the next day. On it were the Opress brothers, their small crew, and seven former slaves including Djai and Ohnai.

The ship was spartan, with simple bunks along the bulkheads, an open space with a large table and chairs, and a cargo space they apparently filled up for trade between the two colonies. It was empty right now; Ordul was still too new to have anything to trade.

Djai had slept a full night in the bunkhouse on Ordul, but somehow still felt exhausted, like the air was some kind of thick mud and every motion was hard work. They'd been assigned bunks on the _Nightwish_ , and since there wasn't really anything to do for them aboard, he and Ohnai spent a lot of time holed up there. Both to rest and to stay out of the way as much as possible.

Djai spent most of the time he was awake just.. listening to people. Getting a feel for them. The _Nightwish_ crew consisted of Grim, Slice and Brutal—talk about a naming theme—all of whom bore the scars of slavery. They were friendly and at ease with Savage and Feral. A little less so with Darth Maul, though they spoke to him readily enough—called him Maul, talked about piloting or their destination or the broken medical droid he'd taken from the slaver ship to fix up.

They didn't chat or banter with him though, and then Djai realised that Savage and Feral mostly didn't either. Or maybe it was that their older brother didn't seem to respond to it much.

After observing them for the better part of a day, Djai suddenly realised what it reminded him of.

Most of the clone cadets were trained in squads, their training optimised for working together. A very few were selected for special one-on-one commando training. Just a single cadet, selected so young that he didn't remember what it was like to have a squad, and a Mandalorian trainer who oversaw his every moment.

The few times Djai had interacted with a vod like that, he'd discovered that they were almost impossible to talk to. Sometimes literally spoke a different language. Didn't know how to have friendly conversations or banter. Their entire world revolved around their trainer's approval. They didn't know how to have brothers, anymore.

Maul seemed a little bit like that. Not unfriendly or unwilling to his brothers, the crew or even the passengers, but like he didn't know how to do more than exist in their orbit. For the most part they left him to it, though Feral and Savage did occasionally try to draw him into conversations, with varying degrees of success.

The next day Maul had what looked like most of the med droid disassembled on the table, occupying the entire surface. It had been there since sometime deep in the night; Djai had been hazily awake when he'd started to hear the soft clanking of it being laid out part by part. It didn't seem like the man had much of a sleep rhythm.

"Must you take up the whole table?" Savage complained good naturedly.

"Yes," Maul said evenly, brows raised. He turned back to the part he was soldering.

"We want to have a meal here."

"You say that like you're planning to set the table with three different kinds of forks, instead of handing out pouches of flavourless slop."

"Maybe I am," Savage shrugged with a glimpse of a grin. "Maybe we're all putting our fancy clothes on."

"I wear black," Maul said, eyes on his task. "I'm never underdressed."

Savage looked subtly pleased and left him to it.

Maul went back to his soldering, ignoring him, and the others slowly assembled around the table. On Savage's beckoning gesture, so did Djai and Ohnai.

When Feral went round with a tray of heated meal pouches, he put one on the table for his brother and carefully surrounded it with three multitensils. Djai still found the expressions on the Zabrak faces hard to read, but there was something of a younger brother's glee in Feral's eyes.

Djai held his breath, tension grabbing him suddenly, as Maul distractedly reached for the food pouch and knocked against the multitensils, sending them clattering among the droid parts.. He huffed out a breath that on any other, Djai would have thought sounded amused.

Djai wasn't sure what kind of time the _Nightwish_ was keeping—perhaps that of their Nightbrother colony. It was just past the nightshift rotation when Maul swept all the remaining droid parts into a storage crate and stowed the half-assembled droid away for re-entry. On Edorfe it was mid afternoon, a crisp, sunny day. Not that time of day or night mattered to Djai and Ohnai at this point. They had both been alternately sleeping, waking up for food or drink, and napping for the entire voyage.

Djai still didn't feel rested, just stiff and heavy and like he'd been in pitched battle for a week straight. He wasn't sure if he felt worse than before their rescue or if he just had space to be aware of how exhausted he was.

Either way it didn't bode well for the next stage of their journey.

If they were meant to work for their passage on the trader ship to Concord Dawn, he wasn't at all convinced that he could do enough to pay for both his own and Ohnai's travel. Perhaps they should have stayed on Ordul for a while longer to recover. He didn't know if that would be possible here on Edorfe, or if they'd need to pay for beds right away.

The spaceport they landed in was small, with only 4 bays; only one other was occupied at the moment, the opposite one of where the _Nightwish_ had landed. It was an older CSS-1, the kind that was effectively a flying cargo bay with engine room and crew quarters tacked on.

Supposedly it was the ship that could take them to Concord Dawn. The spaceport bay doors were open and there were lots of people walking around; they had set up a kind of market on the loading ramp of their huge cargo bay. There was an old fashioned holo display on the back that said 'INTERPLANETARY GOODS MARKET'. Djai had thought to wander over just to check it out; it looked festive and there were interesting food smells wafting over.

Once, when on leave on Coruscant and with Thesh squad at his back, he might have jumped at the chance to throw himself into a cheerful throng like that. They weren't allowed to leave the clone-authorized zone and the Coruscant Guard was always nearby to keep them in line, but there were sometimes still street markets they could visit. The squad would have looked around the entire thing before deciding where to spend the scant few credits of their leave allowance. Usually they'd each get a meal from a different vendor, all sitting together and switching the food around their little circle so they could each taste all of them. He would have been excited to go investigate.

Instead he found himself standing on the ramp of the _Nightwish_ with only one of his squad members left, uncertain if he even wanted to step onto the hard dirt of this planet. Strange as it was to think it, the ship was the closest thing to a safe place they had right now. They'd been given bunks and blankets and food, and the Zabraks understood their situation. It was a refuge Djai was loathe to leave in favour of another ship. Especially since that passage and his ability to work for it was still in question.

On the other hand, Feral and Savage had already left to bring the other freed people into the town; only Pierce was leaving this planet on the _Nightwish_ , and he, Grim, Slice and Brutal were already over there at the market. Djai and Ohnai couldn't rely on staying on the ship for more the time it would take for the crew to handle their errands. He needed to get his shebs over there and negotiate for their passage before they found themselves standing in the dirt with nothing lined up, watching the _Nightwish_ fly away.

It would help if he could bring himself to step off the ramp.

"The Dalu are honourable," a low voice said in a core accent, and Djai bit down on the flinch of discovering Darth Maul standing a couple of meters away, mirroring Djai in his position of looking out from the ramp. Fuck, his instinct and situational awareness had gone completely to shit. Maul's dark robes blended with the sharp shadows of the day, and the stark lines of his face looked thoughtful as he watched the busy crowd in the opposite bay.

Like Djai, he didn't seem keen to go over there. The other Nightbrothers hadn't noticeably drawn attention from what Djai could see from across the bay, so it probably wasn't about his appearance. Perhaps he was on watch. Or perhaps he found the prospect of the market as daunting as Djai did.

Were the Dalu the crew of that ship? Djai had no idea what to say, or what might be expected of him.

Maul made a low sound. "When you're ready," he shrugged fluidly, and disappeared back into the ship, continuing the work on the med droid.

Djai didn't know how long he'd been standing there, not really seeing anything, when Feral and Savage came back. It was just the two brothers, so apparently they'd gotten the freed people settled. Feral was carrying a crinkly bag that steamed gently.

"Come taste these," he told Djai as they passed him into the ship, waving the bag under his nose, "before Maul eats them all."

Djai's stomach squeezed eagerly at the scent of whatever it was, and he followed them in.

Ohnai emerged from his bunk too. Djai had been worried about the endless sleeping, but his brother looked… perhaps not _good_ , but better. Less wan. He also seemed interested in the food, though Djai figured you'd have to be near death before the smell of whatever this was wouldn't rouse you.

In the bag were small fried balls of sweetened dough, perfectly browned and crisp on the outside and squishy soft inside. The vode each tried one, and then on Feral's pressing, a second. Djai almost refused, because Maul had come out of the cockpit scenting the air, and was eyeing the bag with the kind of intensity Djai wasn't going to come between. When they'd both had a second of the treats, the bag rose by itself, evaded Savage's grab, and Maul retreated to the cockpit with a smug curl to his lips.

"Yatera has the fryer on, there's more where that came from," Savage said with a nod to the open ramp and the other ship across the way.

"Yeah," Djai acknowledged heavily. "I've been.. I should—"

He couldn't finish, but thankfully Feral started talking about some development in the town halls, the plans some of the other rescuees had been talking about. It took the attention off Djai's failure, and he felt like he could breathe again. Ohnai leaned over and lightly pressed his shoulder against Djai, silent support.

They talked about the Nightbrother colony and what little they knew about Concord Dawn. It still sounded like a story to Djai, like reality had taken a left turn somewhere and he was still marching straight ahead. Maybe they'd actually get to see it for themselves.

Finally Savage pushed to his feet.

"Come on, I'll introduce you to the captain," he said, gesturing out of the open _Nightwish_ to the other ship.

It was… daunting. Each new step into the unknown made Djai feel uneasy, vulnerable. They'd never been out in the world like this, now he thought of it. They'd always been with a squad, a company. Moved in groups via GAR transports to where they were needed, or in specific approved zones of Coruscant on leave. Then they'd been slaves who had been herded to where they were supposed to be.

They were travelling like civilians might, Djai supposed. They'd just—never been civilians before. He didn't know how it worked. Would they immediately transfer to the other ship and not come back here? It wasn't like they had any possessions to return for, he supposed. There'd be no reason to return. It was just a shame that Pierce hadn't returned yet so they could say goodbye.

"He's a good man," Maul said from behind them. Both vode startled. Djai suppressed a flinch, but Ohnai had been turning to Savage, and stumbled back, tripped, and fell. Djai reached out on reflex, trying to snatch his clothes to at least slow his brother's fall before he'd land on his bad shoulder.

Then suddenly Ohnai wasn't falling at all but being put back onto his feet as by a giant invisible hand.

"Thanks," he said to Maul, breath in a rush.

Maul raised his chin in what seemed like acknowledgement.

"Tell the captain I've got his droid," he said then, and made a sharp about-turn and disappeared back into the cockpit.

Savage shook his head with what might have been rueful amusement and gestured to the open ramp.

"He means that he had us drop by to make sure they were going in the right direction and would take you."

Apparently the Dalu were a space-nomadic people who lived and traded along the outer rim. _La'gethro_ was a family as well as a ship name. Djai didn't know how natborns figured these things, but it seemed a larger and more complicated family than he thought was common for humans and the assorted humanoids that made up the crew.

The Captain was a Kiffar, a tall, handsome man with an impressive head full of long dreadlocks. He introduced himself as "Dalaweid Dalu La'gethro."

The market was winding down, the last stragglers of the townspeople heading out of the spaceport and back into the town. Crewmembers were quickly packing up the stalls and stowing things away; all except one of the food stalls, where two women were frying up the remainder of the dough and setting out a platter of larger fried sweetbread for the crew. There were cheerful calls to hurry up between crew members as they were dismantling their stalls.

The captain wandered over to take one, and gestured for the rest of them to take one too.

The younger woman who was at the fryer looked around, and Djai thought she might protest—the food was clearly intended for the crew—but she just smiled and gestured to a large shaker.

"Here, put on extra sugar and spices."

Unlike the little fried balls from earlier, these had pieces of a tart kind of fruit inside of them. It tasted unlike anything Djai had ever tried before. He tried not to make embarrassing noises.

"We'll deliver you," the captain said, drawing their attention. "I've been meaning to see if the Vode will trade with us; perhaps this will give us the chance to find out. There's no fare for you, though I'd appreciate some work with the crew while we're in the black."

"I can work for both of us," Djai said hurriedly. He had no idea what sort of heavy labour a ship like this had—there was always heavy labour, in his experience, no matter where you went—but wanting to make sure Ohnai wouldn't be made to do it.

"All right," the captain shrugged. "I'll show you the inside."

"We'll head back," Feral announced, turning to the captain. "If you're still interested in that droid, I think Maul will have it going by morning."

"Doesn't he sleep?"

"Not if he can avoid it," Savage said ruefully.

"Well, I'm very interested," the man confirmed. "We've got a lot of dried salted meats in stock right now. That something for your people? We slice it thin like jerky to be able to sell the stuff, but Zabrak have the teeth for dried bantha." He grinned.

"We'll figure it out before we leave," Savage promised before they left. Djai supposed that meant they'd still see them in the morning, which saved him the pressure of figuring out how you thanked somebody for freeing you from slavery and then helping you on your way in life.

Dalaweid walked them around the ship, which was mostly built around a large cargo bay full of all kinds of goods. The ship apparently traded mostly along the Hydian way, finding the lesser developed planets and smaller societies and doing a roaring trade in whatever one planet had surplus that another might need. Sometimes they traded bulk quantities, but they apparently also went to public markets to sell, or organised their own little market, like here.

The crew quarters were heavily lived in; the common room was full of odds and ends, carpets and furniture from a hundred different worlds, and more craft projects in progress than Djai could count. There was also a pair of foxes kept as pets, and three of their half-grown offspring.

The captain introduced two women and one man as "My ho'aliyse." It took Djai a while to catch on that it seemed to mean something like 'spouse'. Definitely an extended polygamous family, then, since one of the partners was Twi'lek and he'd seen what he thought was a half-Twi'lek teenager. It seemed to work for them; the ship had a happy vibe to it. Packing up the market things went smoothly and without any shouting.

There were two six-person bunkrooms. The one the captain lead them to was empty.

"We do crew exchanges with the other Dalu ships sometimes, or take passengers, but you're the only ones right now," he explained. "Bedding is in the drawers." Then, a little apologetic, "I hope you're solid sleepers; the engine room is right there." He pointed to the forward wall of the room.

"Won't be a problem," Djai assured him. Even if it _was_ a problem, it wasn't one they'd tell anybody about. They would be transported for free, as far as he could tell; a blanket in the cargo hold would have been plenty. It was only a couple of days to Concord Dawn and they'd stayed awake longer stretches under harsher conditions.

"Latemeal is in an hour or so—you'll hear the bell. Most of us eat in the messroom, but if that's a bit too busy for you, you're welcome to bring your food outside or back here."

Djai didn't know what to _do_ with all this consideration. It was so kind, and he felt like he should acknowledge it, but how could he even express what it meant? He had the vague feeling that Dalaweid wouldn't even really understand what he meant.

It was hard to wrap his head around how this could exist in the universe, how people could just.. _do_ this for each other. Everything the Vode knew of kindness was what they'd made for themselves; that and what the Jedi could give, one soul among so many clones.

"Thank you," Ohnai said, voice just as hoarse as Djai expected his own to sound. "When will you need us for work?"

"We could probably use some extra hands getting the cargo space-stowed, but that's not until tomorrow, after breakfast. You'll hear it; one bell is mealtime, two bells is 'all free hands' when there's work to do."

That meant that the brothers could get into a bunk right then and probably manage to sleep straight until breakfast. After the mental exertion of the day, nothing sounded better.

Most things had been squared away in the cargo bay the night before, so 'space stowing' mostly involved closing boxes and getting cargo netting around stacks of crates to keep them in place should there be a rough takeoff or re-entry.

Djai had worried about Ohnai insisting on coming along to the cargo bay, not wanting him to exert himself and worried he'd have to refuse a task. But Yatera—one of the captain's partners—had apparently clocked him during breakfast, because she immediately drew Ohnai into light work, checking crates of fruit for spoilt fruit.

From what the crew told Djai, the work while they were in the black would mainly consist of portioning up large stocks of food into smaller portions that could be sold on markets.

It was a rainy day, and the loading ramp was open, letting in the fresh damp air. The fox kits were making an adorable nuisance of themselves in the pile of spare cargo netting. A teenage Twi'lek boy—or half Twi'lek, he looked a lot like the captain—kept interrupting his tasks to push his giggling six year old sister on the swing hanging down from the cargo bay gantry. She was a sweet girl with wild dark curls and a devastating awareness of her own charms, and Djai grinned to see her approach Ohnai with a fox kit in her arms so that he could admire it.

The idea of Concord Dawn being a safe place for vode was still abstract for Djai, but this ship and its crew were very real.

By midmorning the cargo bay was ready for takeoff. Ohnai seemed happy enough listening to the crew chatting at the long working tables, so Djai tagged along with the crew members who checked the water filters for the rain they were catching off the ship's top.

That put him in a good position to watch the brothers Opress exit the _Nightwish_ and come over with the med droid. Feral was in his normal tunics and dashed across, into the shelter of the overhanging crew quarters of the _La'gethro_ where he waited for the others. Savage had his hood up and let his long legs eat up the distance. Maul, slowed down by the droid, snarled at the fat raindrops splattering on his head while he shielded the droid from the rain.

Djai tucked his amusement well away, though Maul's brothers had no such reservations.

The captain and Shalu, the Twi'lek crewmember who seemed to act as their medic, came down to welcome the Zabraks. While the two older brothers conducted the trade of droid against a selection of foodstuffs from the _La'gethro_ 's stores, Feral came over to Djai.

"Everything okay here?" he asked. "Feeling good about riding with them?"

"Yeah," Djai said, surprised by the reminder of how many misgivings he'd had to come aboard the trader ship. His reservations had been wiped out so completely in such a short time. "They seem like good people."

"Glad to hear it."

"I don't know—" Djai hesitated, but he supposed if there was one of the brothers he could say this to, it was Feral. "I don't know how to thank you."

The young Zabrak startled a little. "You don't need to. I don't know how the Vode figure it, but to us there's nothing—no debt owed. It was freely done," and here he grinned with teeth bared, suddenly looking like his name, "and with joy."

In another universe, he could have been vode. It didn't seem like such a large distance all of a sudden. Djai didn't know what to say.

"I do have a request," Feral continued. He fished a small square of thick flimsiplast from a robe pocket and handed it to Djai. There was a comms code written on it in black marker. "If the vode ever run into a Nightbrother who needs help, get in touch. We won't come near Concord Dawn," he assured with a glance at Maul, "but we've got a place for them."

"I'll—I'll remember." The whole idea that the vode might now be in a position to free others, to help others, still hadn't really sunken in, and probably wouldn't until they saw Concord Dawn for themselves. This, though, seemed easy enough to promise, and it satisfied some sense of reciprocity in Djai, to promise to help others the way he and Ohnai had been helped.

He and Feral clasped forearms in a warrior's goodbye.

The exchange with the captain seemed to have come to a conclusion, and when Feral and Djai went over, Savage and Maul were each carrying a crate of food. Surprisingly little in exchange for a functional med droid, Djai thought vaguely, but didn't focus on it. He'd thought to give Savage the same farewell as Feral but did not want to come that close to Maul, so seeing both men have their arms full solved that problem.

"Thank you," Ohnai had come over too. "For everything. I hope you will find all your brothers."

"And I hope we will find no more of yours," Savage said. "Take care."

Maul eyed Djai and Ohnai for a long moment, and he was still—intimidating, much more so than the other two. Something in Djai did not want to meet those golden eyes. But he couldn't forget about the vode who'd forgotten how to be brothers, and the fond, patient way Savage and Feral regarded their older sibling.

Djai opened his mouth to thank the former Sith lord, but Maul cut him off.

"Live a long and free life," he said, clipped, like an order. Then he made a sharp about-turn and walked into the rain, back to his own ship. Feral and Savage followed in his wake after a last wave to the _La'gethro_ crew.

It took Djai long moments to realise that had been a well-wish for their future.


	3. Chapter 3

_Cody, comms room, right now_

Wolffe's people skills have never exactly been smooth, but Cody had only ever known this kind of clipped tone to come out in combat situations. 

_On my way_ , he answered, fastening his weapon belt as he exited his office. The adrenaline dump was more familiar than this building; he'd only been on Concord Dawn for just short of five months, and trained to spring into combat at a moment's notice all his life. He only wished he was wearing his armour. 

The comms room was hushed, none of the frantic buzz of calls-to-attention there would be if this was already an emergency. Must be in that 'could go either way' stage, then. 

One of the techs was talking to somebody on a screen.

 _Unknown ship in orbit_ , Wolffe handsigned. _Asking to land_. 

Ah. No wonder the alarm; they've been very careful only to have expected guests land on Concord Dawn, and there haven't been many so far. An unknown ship turning up and asking to land was cause for alert. Wolffe drew Cody's attention to a screen showing the ship. It was a CSS-1, one of those old workhorses that were 97% cargo space by volume. 

That didn't mean they were carrying friendlies. Cody didn't recognise the flag they were registered under. That big cargo bay could stow a lot of clankers, if somebody was looking to make the Vode regret their rebellion. 

Cody sat down in front of the main holocall projector, in the spot where he took official calls. It was a seat fit for the Vod'alor, carefully staged for when he felt like he had to match the pomp and circumstance of some of his contacts. It also conveniently left the rest of the room out of view of the caller, and watching others comment on the caller in succinct handsign had livened up many a boring call. 

"Here's our Vod'alor now, sir, let me transfer you," the tech said, and then the holo came up in front of Cody. 

The man was a Kiffar, a tall black man with long dreadlocks he'd knotted back out of his face. He smiled on seeing Cody. 

"A good day to you, Vod'alor! I am Dalaweid Dalu La'gethro," he said in lightly accented Basic. "I would like to request permission to land my ship, the _La'gethro_ , on Concord Dawn."

"A good day," Cody said curtly. So far it didn't seem like an invasion force, but then again, there was no reason an enemy would give themselves away early. "And what is your purpose?"

"Twofold. We are Dalu traders, hoping to bring you interesting items from many different worlds and set up a trade agreement that would be favourable for both of us."

Cody glanced at Wolffe, who was searching the holonet for the ship's name and what 'Dalu traders' were. Cody had never heard that name before. 

"And the other purpose?"

"I have aboard with me two men who deserve to live with their brothers, in freedom."

The Captain stepped back and patiently gestured somebody over to join him at the holo console. Apparently this took some convincing; he turned to somebody outside of the console's view and spoke in an unknown language. From the cadence Cody thought he was telling other crew members to give them the room. 

A vod finally stepped into view, the Captain a few paces behind him, giving him space. 

The vod was in worn rough-spun clothing, face gaunt, posture uncomfortable. His head had been recently shaved. There was a surgery scar over one ear. Unmistakably a vod just by his face alone, but even an eidetic memory had its limits. Cody didn't know everyone in the 212th, let alone in the other divisions. 

The vod gave Cody a look full of… Cody wasn't sure. 

"CT-3721, sir." He couldn't seem to get out more. 

The Captain looked concerned, and reached out to put a careful hand on the vod's shoulder. He winced minutely, and Cody remembered - Kiffar. Psychometry. If Master Vos was anything to go by, they did not touch other people lightly. 

"Djai," the Captain said softly to the vod, with a glance to Cody. 

Cody's mind was racing, trying to place that name. The vod looked at the trader captain with something of gratitude, and the man nodded. 

"Djai here is travelling with Ohnai. They have been through a lot."

That much was clear, as well as the trust the vod had for the Captain. Letting him speak for them. 

Cody thought for half a second about sending up a Lartie to retrieve the men, but a CSS-1 wouldn't have a ship bay - they would have to secure and depressurise their entire cargo bay to open in space. If they really were traders, that could take hours and might still ruin cargo to the vacuum and low temperature. Suspicious as Cody was, that seemed unreasonable in the face of the apparent kindness of the Captain. 

"You have permission to land," he said instead, willing his voice to sound steady. "We'll send you coordinates."

"Thank you. Will we see you in person?"

It was a genuine question, but Cody could hear the undertone of suggestion. Given how overwhelmed the vod—Djai— still looked, his face frozen in that blank way brothers did when their emotions were too big to be contained, Cody did need to be there. He, a medic, and probably not too many others. 

"You will. Until then."

He signed off and met Wolffe's eyes. His brother had been looking up that designation. 

"Ghost, Thesh squad," Wolffe offered, gentle, for Wolffe. 

Cody blinked, confused. He'd brought the men of Thesh squad home with him. 

"No, the first Thesh. Marked as KIA nearly a year ago, on Felucia."

"A _year."_ Cody clenched his hands and then slowly, deliberately, unclenched them. It was that or rub at his eyes. "Little gods."

"Yeah."

The ship landed inelegantly despite the calm weather, its supports engaged just slightly too late to land level. The reason why became apparent when Cody, Kix and Wolffe walked around to the loading ramp.

"My son's first landing!" called the Captain proudly as he came down the ramp, clapping a half-Twi'lek teenager on the shoulder in passing. Cody had only passing acquaintance with father-son relationships, but even he could read the exasperated-and-secretly-pleased 'DAD!' in the boy's mortified look. 

"Welcome to Concord Dawn," he greeted formally, giving the hand-over-heart-and-slight-bow greeting that was universal basic for humanoids. 

"Vod'alor. I thank you for the welcome," the Captain said cheerfully, despite facing a bunch of well-armed and probably wary-looking clones. He glanced at the sidearms on all three vode's belts. "Are you expecting trouble?"

Cody gave him a thin smile. "We are still establishing our place here, and there are people who would stop us from doing so."

"Understandable. I can assure you the most trouble you'll have out of us is possibly a noise complaint. I have an instrument that sounds best out of doors, or so my crew says whenever I play in the cargo bay," he grinned. "But if that is a problem, I promise that a comms message will be sufficient for me to stop."

He was the kind of personable that made it obvious he was a career trader, comfortable approaching any kind of company. It reminded Cody oddly of Obi-Wan in negotiation mode. Cody glanced past him to see where the two vode were, and spotted one of them in the shadows just inside the ship, arms wrapped around himself. He was talking to a young child with a wild cloud of dark curls. 

"Where are the men?" Wolffe asked curtly, the first thing he'd said. Cody tried not to visibly react to the rudeness. 

"Saying goodbye to my crew, I imagine," Dalaweid said peaceably. "And perhaps hoping I'll explain some things to you, because they seem to struggle with that."

"Oh?"

"They were rescued from a slave ship by a crew we're friendly with. That crew knew we were headed to this quadrant, so we agreed to give them a ride."

Cody tried not to wince. He'd known that they'd been slaves, or at least strongly suspected it, from the first moment he'd seen Djai in the holocall. 

"Ohnai's got lung trouble. We've had him sleep with an oxygen mask, that seems to help some." He paused for a moment, apparently considering what information was needed. "Transitions seem to be hard. Every new place, every new step. My ship and crew were daunting when they came aboard, but five days later and it's the safest and most familiar place they have, so stepping off the ramp is a whole thing again."

Kix nodded. "They're going straight to our medical center. We'll keep things small for them here until they're ready to explore."

"Good. While we're waiting, is this a good time to talk about trade?" the Captain asked Cody lightly. 

Cody wouldn't admit to anybody—except perhaps Obi-Wan—that it was a relief to switch to an alor kind of subject. _This_ , he knew how to handle. 

A short time later it had been agreed that the _La'gethro_ would move to someplace more public, and stay a few days to run a small market out of their cargo bay. Cody had been worried about if they had anything to offer in trade—right now the Vode's main export was labour. But the captain seemed to value the connection more than any immediate profitable trade deals, and it sounded like the market could be a treat for any vod with a few credits to spend. 

Cody remembered in time that a Kiffar would not shake hands on a deal, and by then the two vode ventured out into the sunlight and slowly down the ramp. 

Slowly because one of them was unsteady on his feet, his lips greyer than they should be. Kix cursed under his breath. Wolffe met his eyes, and handsigned that he would get a speeder as he jogged off. 

"Sirs," Djai said softly when they drew even with the captain. Ohnai raised a hand in the sketch of a salute. 

For a moment, Cody had no idea what to say. How did you greet two people you had left for dead? Two people who had been going through hell while you never even knew to look for them?

" _You_ need to be sitting down," Kix said decisively, breaking up the moment. He reached out, very carefully, to offer Ohnai support on his free side. "How are you even standing?"

"Oxygen tank," Djai supplied. "Thank you for that, captain."

"There is never a need to thank a Dalu for things like that," the Captain said, warm and smooth. "I am glad I could assist you to where you need to be."

Djai inclined his head, seeming overwhelmed again. 

"I see my daughter has not succeeded in her mission to get you to adopt one of the fox kits."

"We'd love to, but—" Djai made a helpless gesture, a 'but _everything_ ' motion. 

"Understandable. But if it seems more possible later, we'll be here a few days. Send word," the captain grinned. "They really do make good pets."

At that moment Wolffe arrived in the speeder, and a few minutes later the vode were seated, goodbyes-for-the-moment had been said, and they drove to the Medical center.

***

"Good morning, how are you feeling today?" Kix said on entering the room where Djai and Ohnai were staying.

"Good morning," both men said dutifully. But then, instead of looking away and lapsing into dull silence, as they had done the previous three days since their arrival, Djai kept looking at him. 

"Sir, is the _La'gethro_ still here?"

Kix had to force himself not to react too visibly. The past three days had seen the brothers mostly asleep—Ohnai on the bacta nebuliser that was slowly healing his lungs— or marginally awake but apathetic about their surroundings. According to the Jedi mindhealer that was seeing them daily it wasn't anything to worry about, but Kix still felt something loosen in his chest to see them upright and asking questions. 

"I think they're planning to depart tomorrow." And then, because he wanted to keep them engaged, "their market's been very popular. I believe the Vod'alor has said they'll put us on our trade route."

Ohnai looked pleased at that. "Have you been? They make these amazing fried sweet things.. Called them oil-balls."

"One of the nurses brought them in for the team. They're great." And exactly the kind of sweet-greasy food the Vode had previously had little to no access to. Kix had seen some vode with colourful new scarves and hats, but he was pretty sure the fried food was the primary moneymaker at the market. 

"Best when they're fresh," Djai nodded, something wistful in his gaze, and Kix grinned and made the kind of quick-fire medical call that had made him a good combat medic. 

"I've been thinking I could try to make some at home. Want to go and have some fresh ones?"

Both men blinked at him. The idea that they could go somewhere clearly hadn't occurred to them. 

"You're not being kept here," Kix reminded them gently. "We just didn't want to overwhelm you. You can leave this place whenever you want and go wherever you want."

Djai looked away, but Kix spotted the slightly panicky twitch of Ohnai's shoulders. _Wherever_ might be the problem. Too big, too open. He remembered the words of the trader captain. These guys really needed a home base; this room in the Med center couldn't serve as that much longer. He'd have to ask Cody if he knew a suitable place to get the brothers settled until they were ready to make decisions about their future on Concord Dawn. 

"We can take a speeder, go see the traders this morning, while it's still quiet," he suggested. A step out of this room, but a controlled one. He could arrange the speeder and drive it, they wouldn't have to worry about that. The brothers already knew the traders, and if they went before noon, there wouldn't be many Vode yet. 

They were both wearing the generic long PT clothes that had been brought by the pallet from Kamino, and while they both could stand to regain weight and muscle mass, they'd lost the unhealthy gauntness in their faces. They wouldn't attract any attention.

Djai and Ohnai had a silent conversation via eye contact. 

"We'd like that," Djai finally said. “When should we be ready?"

"How about this, I'll go arrange the speeder, and when you two are ready to head out—" he almost said 'come find me' but figured that was probably too big a step. "Hit the comms button with the nurses station, and I'll come get you."

Kix couldn't help feeling a little smug that he'd managed to turn what had promised to be a boring medical shift into an expedition to the traders market. He hadn't been yet himself, though Jesse had reported Kix would want to have a look.

He understood why, soon enough; there was a stall just unrolling an amazing felt rug, thick and soft. The whole market looked inviting, full of colourful knick-knacks, practical things, handcrafts from many different planets. There was a stall selling small bags of seeds, and bundles of different seeds grouped by purpose and by climate. It all seemed very aimed at individuals without much to spend, and Kix suspected that was intentional—looking into the full cargo bay, they probably had a lot more to sell, both wholesale and for larger budgets. Making sure their stalls had things the vode could afford was just good business sense. 

It was interesting to see Djai and Ohnai unfurl as they approached the market; unlike every other thing on Concord Dawn, this was obviously familiar and comfortable. They were greeted by a Twi'lek woman who called up the cargo ramp in a loud, cheerful stream of some unknown language. By the way several people immediately turned to them, it had been something like 'they're back'. 

Kix smiled to himself as there was a loud shriek and then a little girl with wild black curls pelted up to them, skidding to a halt just soon enough that she didn't bowl into Ohnai. 

"You're back!" she said excitedly. "Da said you might not but I knew you'd come back! Are you flying with us?!"

Ohnai knelt to get down to eye level with her and, from what Kix could tell, broke the news that this was goodbye. Kix turned to the stall with the felt rugs, wanting to give the men some privacy. They'd obviously bonded fast with some of the crew. 

"What is this material?" he asked the older lady unpacking a crate of some kind of felted footwear.

"Bantha undercoat," she smiled at him. "I've got a few more, if that one isn't to your taste."

Kix has trouble pulling his hands off the rug. It was soft and squishy and he desperately needed it beside his bed. 

"I wouldn't want to insult your craft with what I'd be able to offer for it," he said. There, he could be diplomatic, _Rex_. "But that is the best thing I could imagine stepping on first thing in the morning." 

She chuckled warmly. "I have one, and it certainly is good on ships! You've had enough cold floors to last you three lifetimes, huh?" 

Kix wondered how much these people had picked up from the vode, how much information they had learned from idle conversations and carefully casual questions. More than enough to make Jesse uneasy, probably. Kix nodded anyway. 

"If the rug is out of reach, perhaps these will do you until it isn't." She held up a pair of the weirdly oversized footwear. "You have to shrink them to fit your feet exactly, so they always fit. Then cut this leather to size and sew it underneath to keep 'em from wearing too fast. Looks like this, see?"

She put her foot up on a stool and Kix saw she was wearing her own pair. The price was fair, so he bought a pair for himself and one for Jesse. 

"We were hoping for oilballs, but I'm guessing we're a bit early?" Djai said, indicating Kix. "Kix over there hasn't tried one fresh out of the fryer," he added. Kix drifted closer. 

"Oh no! The oil isn't heated yet, it will be some hours," somebody lamented. "You should see the amount of batter we're making each day. We make notes for every place we go, so all the Dalu ships know what kind of trade is of interest here. We've made sure to make it known that your people love their fried foods!"

Kix gave the lady a smile. She looked a lot like the captain. His sister maybe. 

"I was hoping to figure out how you make them, so I could try it at home."

He'd wondered if that might be impolite, but she looked delighted. There was some rapid chatter in their own language and a teenager jogged off into the ship. A few minutes later the girl returned with a bag.

"It's very flexible with the ingredients as long as you keep the proportions," the woman, Yatera, explained. "We use these two types of flour, mixed two parts of this to one part of this. Add one of these little measures of the rising agent and two of a sweetener - we use molasses or honey, depending on what we have, but normal sugar works too. You can experiment with including fruit—perhaps Muja, that grows here, does it not?"

Kix nodded, swept along in the enthusiasm of this woman's passion for fried food. 

"Then perhaps next time we visit, you will have developed your own local oilball recipe!"

By the time she'd finished telling him about resting the batter and frying oil types and temperatures and how to recognise the right level of friedness, Kix turned around to discover that Ohnai was holding a fox kit. The little girl of before was looking supremely pleased with herself. 

"See? You _have_ to keep him!"

"Yala, I'd love to keep him, I really would—" Ohnai was all but pleading for her to take it back, but from the tender way he cradled the animal was obvious that he didn't want to let go of the little fox at all. It has its pointy little nose pressed up in his neck and looked very happy to be there. Djai was watching them with indecision all over his body language. 

Kix sighed. This was a complication. Vode had started adopting all sorts of animals as pets, sometimes even before they'd arrived on Concord Dawn—some more successfully than others. But Djai and Ohnai were still living in the medical center, they couldn't have a pet there. Kix had been meaning to talk to Cody about where they could go, but this kicked everything into more urgency. 

On the other hand, he'd never seen Ohnai look as engaged as this. Before this little outing, the men had barely ventured beyond the hallway of the medical center. If a pet could entice them out into their new world and exploring…

Kix didn't like the way he was being looked at; it wasn't up to him to give permission. He battlesigned _'your call',_ but that didn't seem to help the men's indecision. He supposed that shouldn't surprise him, because nothing had been their call for a long time. And in some ways, probably never before. The idea that they were qualified and authorised to make this decision about their own lives was clearly not landing. 

"If it's truly not possible, we'll…" Yatera said under her breath, gesturing that they'd get the girl and the fox inside. "My niece bonded with Ohnai on the way here, and decided he needed a little friend. And they do make good pets."

Kix nodded and went over to them. The fox was making tiny little squeaks, rubbing its face against Ohnai's ear and occasionally giving it a little nibble. Djai had reached out to scratch its soft, pointy ears. 

"The decision is up to you," he told the men in a low voice. "We can make it work with the living arrangements."

That clinched it. A few moments later the little girl was bouncing with joy and somebody else brought over a collar and leash for the fox. 

It was nearing middag and other vode were beginning to make their way over to the La'Gethro—the crew needed to finish setting up and start manning the stalls, so the mood shifted to farewells. The captain came down to wish them well, and Kix thought he caught an offer to fly with the crew, if they ever wanted to see more of the galaxy. He couldn't imagine either of the men would be ready for that anytime soon, but it was a nice thought that they had the option should they ever want it. It seemed like a pretty interesting life to Kix. 

Maybe if he and Jesse ever wanted a break from Torrent bullshit, he should ask if they could use a medic. 

Stepping out of the busy knot of well-wishers and goodbyes, he discretely insisted on paying for both the food ingredients and the collar and leash, and thanked Yatera for her and the crew's care of the men. 

Ohnai didn't let go of the fox the entire way back, curled around it with his face pressed into its fur. Despite now facing a conversation on the lines of 'Oh Vod'alor, that accommodation plan needs to happen right now,' Kix had trouble to stop himself smiling. 


	4. Chapter 4

"Cody!" Obi-Wan answered his comms, pleased and surprised. "Is this urgent? I'm still with the younglings."

"I suppose it isn't," Cody answered, in a tone Obi-Wan could read as 'I'd like to talk, but nothing is currently on fire.'

"Let me get to my rooms and comm you back. A few minutes."

Cody looked relieved enough that Obi-Wan found himself hurrying back to his quarters. He'd been off comms for days as he travelled. It was pure coincidence that Cody's hail found him at the Temple; he'd been travelling so much lately. He'd only returned to Coruscant to deliver the Neti youngling he'd encountered. 

He missed the company of his men, such a constant over the past few years. And he especially missed Cody. But whenever he thought about going to Concord Dawn, his stomach clenched. 

The Force hadn't yet steered him there. Someday. 

"Now, what has happened?" he said when Cody answered on the first ring. 

"We got Ohnai and Djai back," Cody said, with something of devastation in his voice. 

Cody's use of 'we' suggested the 212th and the names rang a bell, so most likely Ghost company. 'Back' meant they hadn't been with Ghost at the end. Obi-Wan's mind raced, trying to place the familiar names in the progression of Ghost company troopers he'd had over the years. 

"Thesh squad? Felucia?"

"Yes. They'd been shelled directly. That whole section was overrun, and we had to be extracted." 

The area where the squad had been a hellpit. If it had seemed at all possible for them to survive, Obi-Wan would have found a way to send a LAAT/I to them, even if late. How the two troopers might have made it out of there alive, Obi-Wan couldn't guess. 

"Yes. They survived, and were picked up by slavers."

" _Force_."

Obi-Wan pressed his knuckles to his forehead, acknowledging the wave of guilt and grief and anger and trying to let it float away on the tidal streams of the Force. It was hard to find the happiness at finding the men, under the rest of the emotions. 

"I think most of Thesh was with them, but that the others didn't survive the slavers," Cody said, his face struggling for composure for a moment. "I haven't dared ask them about it yet."

"Are they…" Obi-Wan hesitated on how to end that sentence. 'Okay' or 'well' seemed wrong. He didn't think there was any possible answer to those. He began again. "How are they?"

"They got here five days ago, they're still pretty overwhelmed. They've stayed inside the Medical center until today. I don't think it's real for them yet, and the mind healer says that'll probably take time. I'm looking for a suitable place for them to live." 

"You don't want them in the barracks," Obi-Wan understood. Concord Dawn had a setup for arriving vode. There were barrack-style rooms, a mess hall, and other spaces set up for men to live in, to recover, and to figure out where to go from there. To learn about the options that were open to them and to get support in figuring out what they wanted. Now the flood of arrivals had slowed to a trickle, they were likely mostly empty.

For most of the vode, that kind of barracks style living represented safety, Obi-Wan knew. It was as close to 'home' as they'd even known, before Concord Dawn. For two men who'd been through so much, anything that institutional might not exactly feel like a comfort. 

"Yeah," Cody sighed. "Kix just called saying they adopted a pet and need a place sooner than later."

"Well, a pet seems like it might be positive. How is their health?"

"Djai is recovering with proper rest and bacta. Ohnai's lungs were.. not good. Medical got their bacta nebuliser a couple of weeks ago, so he's been on daily treatments and will probably need them for a while. I thought about hosting them myself, but…"

But while the Vod'alor had a house, he spent the vast majority in his office or the little apartment adjacent to the governing buildings. 

"Last time I talked to them, Waxer and Boil were talking about making the shed in their garden into a guesthouse," Obi-Wan mused. "I don't know how workable the distance from there to the Medical Unit is. But they'd be good for Djai and Ohnai, I think." Familiar faces. Steady presences.

Cody made a thoughtful noise. 

"I'll ask them. Making sure Djai and Ohnai have some company to help them along is probably good. They didn't know that the war is over before they were freed, and it's only been a short time. This is a lot all at once for them."

"Oh yes, how did they get free? Did Lightning get that Outer Rim slaver-busting tour plan off the ground already? I thought they were still working on outfitting the ship."

"Oh no, you'll… that's a whole thing," Cody chuckled wryly. "They had to repeat three times before I understood who freed them. And it still seems unbelievable."

"...well, don't keep me in suspense," Obi-Wan said lightly.

"Their slave transport ship was taken mid-flight…"

"Uh huh," Obi-Wan acknowledged. 

"...by three very distinct Zabrak brothers…"

"...oh…"

"...with markings they recognised…"

"Oh, no."

"...from when _you_ fought the oldest brother, not to mention that they recognised the red lightsaber—"

" _No_."

"—Oh _yes_."

"Really. Darth Maul." Obi-Wan knew he sounded incredulous. 

Cody made a noise of confirmation, and Obi-Wan fell silent, stunned, for the space of a few breaths. He had seen Darth Maul once since Naboo, on a battlefield not long after Geonosis. It had been the shock of a lifetime to find the man not only alive, but suddenly appearing behind the droid line Obi-Wan had leapt over, thinking to destroy them from behind to help his troops along. Instead of helping them, he'd been distracted by the sudden appearance of Darth Maul, who had planned the situation like this and was clearly gunning for Obi-Wan's life. 

Despite the shock and dismay at seeing a long-dead enemy in front of him with murder in his eyes, he remembered being vaguely impressed that his opponent had managed to regain as much fighting prowess as he had. Cybernetic legs had to be influencing his connection to the force, but he was still formidable, and where he'd lacked his old acrobatic grace he'd gained in brutal driving strength.

They had talked, in a fashion, during their duel. Or rather, Maul had snapped that Obi-Wan had taken everything from him, but that he would pay with his life. And that through killing Obi-Wan, Maul would win back his place as Sith apprentice. 

They'd been fairly evenly matched, trading back and forth across the battlefield, though Obi-Wan had been tired already. If not for Ghost company breaking through the line of battledroids he would have lost on endurance. His men had turned their attention to taking shots at the Sith fighting their general, forcing him to deflect. His attention divided, Maul had strategically withdrawn, though not before promising that the fight wasn't over and he would have his revenge. 

Not long after, it had become clear from Dooku's disparaging words that Maul was no longer considered a player on the other side. 

They hadn't heard anything from or about Maul since then, but that hadn't meant he wasn't still motivated to kill Obi-Wan. Until now, Obi-Wan hadn't realised that he'd subconsciously been waiting for the other shoe to drop and for that stark red and black face to suddenly appear in front of him, lightsaber in hand.

The last thing he'd expected to hear was to hear that the zabrak was apparently occupying himself with _freeing slaves_ , of all things. 

"I have _many_ questions," Obi-Wan finally said.

"Yes, that was my reaction too. According to Djai it was definitely him," Cody said, and continued with incredulity in his tone. "Maul personally deactivated their slave chips so they could be removed. Apparently since they themselves are now free, they are working to free every other Nightbrother from slavery too, and anybody else they find while they're at it."

" _They_ being Darth Maul and his two younger brothers?"

Darth Maul had _brothers_?

"Seems so. Savage and Feral."

Obi-Wan had learned after Naboo that his fearsome opponent had been a Dathomir Nightbrother, and logically that must mean he'd been born as part of a tribe. That it was completely plausible for him to have brothers. 

It was just—almost impossible to think about Darth Maul having relatives without wondering what he'd been like as a child. To realise he hadn't always been the nightmare he was to Obi-Wan; hadn't always been a red and black focal point of rage and hate, channel and amplifier of every dark side emotion that Obi-Wan tried to release without letting it dig in its claws. 

Little was known about the Nightsisters; it was some kind of heretic tribe on Dathomir, ruled by women who were powerful in the dark force. Maul's existence as a Sith apprentice had always seemed to prove that it was possible to break out of whatever constraints were laid on the men. 

"I…. I might need some time to meditate on this."

Cody snorted. "Here's some more, while you're meditating on it."

"...all right…?"

"As far as I can tell, Maul and his brothers took the slaver ship, freed the slaves, and brought them all to some colony that would have taken them in. They obviously knew about Concord Dawn, because they assumed Djai and Ohnai would want to come here. When they did, Maul and his brothers brought them to another colony where they arranged a ride on a friendly trader to Concord Dawn."

"...are you… are you saying that Darth Maul had two men delivered to our doorstep?"

"I can't believe I am saying that, but… yes. I think so."

"Have they been… scanned? Evaluated by a mind healer?" His mind ticked over what kind of advantage Darth Maul might have thought to gain by returning these men. 

"I thought of that too, but they are clear. Nothing physical or mental that could be a trap. Apparently Maul does want something in return for the men though."

"Oh, here we go." That sounded more like Darth Maul. Obi-Wan almost expected to hear the demand for his own life, but that made no sense; the men had already been returned, so Maul had already given up any leverage he might have had to demand such a thing. 

It was all very surreal. 

"They gave Djai a comms address to contact in case any of us ever finds a Nightbrother in need of a safe place."

...what.

"That's all. That's what he wants." Obi-Wan said flatly, because that made no sense. 

"Seems so. I'm considering a thank you message for their care."

Obi-Wan hummed in acknowledgement. 

"I want it known in those circles that we'll take people in, and especially older people who might struggle to work for their keep in frontier communities."

Obi-Wan nodded. They'd talked about the idea of taking in people willing to be acting grandparents to the youngest vode. It seemed like a good idea to diversify the population of Concord Dawn as soon as possible, and it could be a solution for former slaves who might struggle to find a place for themselves,. 

Obi-Wan was still trying to order the facts into a way that they might form some sort of logical narrative. Some way there was a logical path from the furious, hateful Darth Maul who had been looking to work himself back into Sidious' questionable mercy, to a man who was flying around with two younger brothers and freeing slaves. And then apparently setting them up for a free life with the kind of attention to detail that Lighting Squadron's plans hadn't demonstrated yet. 

"Djai and Ohnai didn’t happen to say _how_ Maul got started rescuing slaves?"

"Kind of. Apparently Feral told them that Nightbrothers are all born slaves. And that Maul was given to Sidious as a young child."

Oh. Obi-Wan felt his breath gust out of him. 

As far as he'd known, Sith had always been adult force users, turned or corrupted to the dark side. People like Dooku. And Anakin, who'd come so close to falling under Sidious' corrupting influence. Obi-Wan had never heard of anybody being _raised_ into being a Sith. 

He couldn't imagine that it had been anything less than brutal, or that there had been any way of refusing.

Meaning that the first slave Maul had freed had likely been himself. 

"I need to… think about this," he finally told Cody. "Do you think Djai and Ohnai would appreciate if I commed them?"

That was not a given. Obi-Wan would not blame them if they were angry with him, blamed him for allowing this to happen. 

"I'll ask them and let you know."

"Yes. Please."

"I sat down with them the day after they arrived. Wanted to give them my formal _ni ceta_. It was… hard. They were uncomfortable, but as both their commander and the Vod'alor it needed saying. And I think they'll appreciate it from you, too."

It was the kind of conversation Obi-Wan wasn't looking forward to; it was hard to balance all the emotions that came with 'I'm so glad you survived the terrible thing we allowed to happen to you while assuming you were dead' in a conversation. And that was before even considering how mixed the men might themselves be feeling about their commanders. But as Cody said, it still needed saying, and Obi-Wan wouldn't shy away from it. 

"Yes. of course. If they end up staying with Waxer and Boil that'll help find the right moment. I speak to them regularly anyway."

"Yes. Good thought about asking those two. Even if the guesthouse isn't done yet, they have enough space."

"And they're… two of our more steady Ghosts," Obi-Wan said with amusement. He drew in a too-sharp breath on hearing his own wording. He wasn't sure if he could still… if that was still a thing he could say. Cody didn't seem to notice it. 

"Definitely. They might do Djai and Ohnai good, I know that—"

Somebody entered the room Cody was in, and there was just the barest hint of irritation at being interrupted. Then Cody's face smoothed into the Vod'alor's diplomatic expression. Not one of the Shebse, then. 

"I must go. We will speak again soon."

It didn't sound like a question, but Obi-Wan could recognise it as one in Cody's body language nonetheless. 

"Yes, I will be at the temple for a few more days. I look forward to it."

Obi-Wan stayed in his chair for an indeterminable amount of time, his thoughts flitting over the new information, trying to process it. Djai and Ohnai, having been so lost that nobody had even known to look for them. How abandoned they must have felt, and how strange the world they now found themselves in. 

And how strange their rescuers had been. How was it possible that Darth Maul, a face Obi-Wan sometimes still saw in his nightmares, represented rescue and freedom to a number of people in the galaxy? How had he gone from the nightmare Obi-Wan had known to this person?

Then again, how had he become that nightmare? If he'd been raised as a Sith—raised by Sidious...

With unclouded hindsight, Obi-Wan remembered what it had done to Anakin whenever he spent time with Palpatine. How he'd come back angry and unbalanced. And Sidious had been trying to _entice_ Anakin to the Dark side. Had likely started from the first time he met the boy. 

He would have had no need for enticement with Maul. 

What might it be like to be raised by such a man, cut into shape, bent to his purpose from early childhood? 

What might it be like to be discarded by such a man, dismissed from the only purpose you'd ever known?

He knew he himself could never make contact with the Nightbrothers. Maul may have bent his path away from revenge, his anger with Obi-Wan was justified. _Look at what you did to me_ , he'd hissed, indicating his half-bionic body. And he'd been right. The strike Obi-Wan had used, at waist level, was considered dishonourable for a reason; death by bisection was slow and painful and far from assured. It only occurred to him now that Maul likely would have preferred to die in combat that day. A quick, decisive death in battle. Not the painful lingering he'd been forced into, made to live on with half a body, discarded by his master. 

It sounded like Maul had found a new purpose through meeting his brothers. Had found something he wanted to live for. Had, in a way, freed himself from the self-destruction of his revenge-bound path by deciding to rescue all his nightbrothers. 

Was it strange for Obi-Wan to want to… to acknowledge it somehow? He knew as the catalyst, if not the architect, of much of Maul's misery, he had no right to any sort of pride or pleasure at this change of path. Any sort of word or gesture coming from him would be viciously refused. Even risked pushing Maul back toward darker paths. 

And yet—Maul and his brothers had sent two of the Vode home with the kind of consideration and care few might have stretched to. Obi-Wan felt it like a message, and wanted to answer it somehow.

Perhaps he could pass the knowledge about the Nightbrother refuge to the Jedi who worked along the Outer Rim, in case they ran into a Nightbrother. The Jedi returning one of Maul's brothers would have a pleasing kind of symmetry to it. 

Maul had freed himself and then his brothers, and he'd used that freedom to rescue Djai and Ohnai and give them back the life they ought to have had. 

Kote had freed himself and then all his brothers, too, and in the process had helped free the galaxy of the Sith who would have ruled it in darkness. Rex had made kin out of Anakin and likely made the difference between light and dark. 

A long, slow chain reaction of brothers who chose to bind their fates together. People who had decided that their kinship was strong enough to move the galaxy, just a little, just enough. And through that, so many had wrested themselves out of Sidious' grasping influence. Had come through the darkness and into the light. 

Obi-Wan could feel the slow, vast resonance of it in the Force, and smiled. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please feed(back) your writer!


End file.
